KOTOR: Bloodlines
by Blade8821
Summary: This is a tale spanning millennia, seen through the eyes of a man born and bred for war, whose lust for battle transcends death itself. They say the Force is strong in bloodlines; but when a dead man takes over the mind and body of his progeny, is it a gift... Or a curse? This story will span KOTOR 1 and 2, as well as parts of the original Star Wars Trilogy.
1. Chapter 1

**Star Wars**

 **Ramikad**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

 _' '_ \- Thoughts, usually in _italics,_ as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

 _Italics-_ Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

 **Bold!-** Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

 _ **Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

 _ **I am a Conscientious Provocateur.**_

 _ **...Which is just a fancy way of saying I'm an asshole.**_

 _ **This is a trial chapter that I put together in my spare time. If people like it, then this fic will be continued. I'd like to apologize in advance, the first two sections of this are very "Rough," and rushed. The remainder of the chapter is, by all accounts,(All my accounts) awesome.**_

 _ **I WOULD LIKE TO GIVE A SHOUT OUT TO CREEN, HERE ON FANFICTION. HE IS A SUPERB WRITER, AND I HIGHLY RECOMMEND READING HIS WORK.**_

 _ **SERIOUSLY. CREEN. YOU ARE MY OPRAH.**_

 _ **And there's the Archer reference.**_

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#1 _**The Ramikad**_

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

 _ **Reference include, but are not limited to: Archer, DBZ Abridged, Star Wars KOTOR 1/2, Bulletstorm, Halo ODST, Code MENT, The Dark Id, and Resident Evil 5.**_

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"He's too old."

The young Zeltron woman who stood before the Jedi council knew that was how they would answer, but Cynthe was never one to walk away from a fight, or an argument, without winning. "But Master Windu, surely you recognize his potential. Even without training, he has-"

She was once again interrupted, this time by the small, green-skinned figure seated in the center of the room. "Too old the boy is, as Master Windu has correctly stated. He has experienced too much of the world for the training to take. Grave, the repercussions were, last time an exception was made."

Her crimson eyes narrowed. "If you will not accept him into the academy, then I'll train him myself. That's the old way, isn't it? A master training her student from the time they can walk."

Mace scoffed at the thought. "You're hardly fit to train anyone, let alone someone who hasn't even learned the most basic principles of the Jedi Code. I remember when you first walked into this sacred temple, still wearing the blood-stained colors of the-" Before he could finish that statement, the air in the room seemed to change, suddenly dropping to near-freezing in an instant.

The sudden change in atmosphere did not go unnoticed, as did the look in Cynthe's eyes. "Do not speak of me as though I was a desperate child with nowhere to go. I came to the Jedi because I was sick of the constant betrayal and bickering of the Sith; I could've gone anywhere I pleased, but I sought to help the people of this galaxy. And the Jedi are sworn to protect the innocent, are we not? If the boy is not trained, the Sith will find him, and they aren't picky about who they turn or how they do it. The boy deserves better than that." She closed her eyes, reigning in her temper. "I know I am far from being the best suited to train him or anyone else. But it's better than letting him experience the same horrors I went through."

The little green man finally opened his eyes, staring intently at the young woman. "Determined, you are. Nothing to be done, there is. Go, youngling. No problems teaching, if the boy is as gifted as you believe."

With that, Cynthe nodded stiffly, "Thank you, Master Yoda," And turned on her heel, heading out the door before any of the other Jedi could protest.

As soon as the door closed, Mace spoke. "...If I might ask, why did you concede to her request, Master Yoda?"

The little green man smiled rather cryptically as he chuckled. "Corrupted, she is. But strong, her convictions are. Gained nothing, we have, by denying her. And nothing have we lost, by allowing her to mentor the boy. But if her intuition is correct..." He trailed off, letting the remaining Jedi come to their own conclusions.

Mace Windu slowly nodded, understanding what Yoda was insinuating. "Shrewd as always, Master Yoda. Nothing to be lost, but a possible ally gained. Chances are, she'll probably get both the boy and herself killed. But there's still a risk; if one of them turns to the dark side, both of them will."

Once more, Yoda smiled that cryptic smile he was so well known for. "Underestimated, the boy is."

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

When Cynthe left the Jedi Council and proceded to the lobby, she found the subject of their entire conversation on the floor, sitting upside-down.

Literally; his head was on the floor, legs crossed and hands folded together in some mock-up of a prayer pose. His face was scrunched up in concentration, which would explain why all the chairs, plants and tables around him were floating some three or four feet off the floor.

After blinking back the shock, Cynthe found her hand slapping against her forehead, an irritated groan escaping her lips; why couldn't the boy have done this earlier, when she first paraded him in there? It would've made things go _so_ much smoother. "I see you're having fun. Pray tell, why didn't you show the other Jedi this when I brought you in to see them earlier?"

His eyes popped open, and suddenly, all the furniture-

* _ **Whum-BKLUNK!**_ *

Immediately hit the floor. He rolled over onto his back with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. "That's why. I can't get anything to do that floaty-thing unless I'm upside-down, and it really hurts my head. Ow."

"Oh...Kay." Cynthe blinked owlishly. "Are you alright?"

The boy sat up, looking straight up into the woman's eyes. "Yeah, I'm as well as I ever am. So am I coming with you, or do I have to go back to the orphanage? If it's the latter, can I get a headstart, Sis?" This kid is something else; at least he has his priorities straight.

She found herself smiling at his nickname for her, despite how hard she was trying not to. "You're stuck with me now, kid. So can you tell me your name, or am I gonna have to call you 'Majestic Space Duck' on a long-term basis?"

"QUACK!" He called, grinning that cheeky grin that only little kids can pull off. "My name is Alexander Roidsworth the 42nd, but you can call me Al. Or just 42, that's what the wards called me."

Cynthe smiled. "Alright, Al. That reminds me, the ward said you're an empath like me. Do you know what she meant by that?"

"Yep. It means I can sense the feelings of people around me, but for me, it lets me remember things that I shouldn't know."

Puzzled by this, she asked, "Remember things? What do you mean?"

Alexander emphatically odded. "Yeah, I can remember stuff that I didn't do. Most of 'em don't make much sense though, probably because I was seeing things through someone else's eyes. But he looked just like me, and his name was Alexander Roidsworth the 31st. Same name, so I think he's my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather. I started remembering them after our field trip to the Jedi Archives. They had an old sword displayed in there, and when Hroikuh dared me to touch it, all sorts of things came rushing into my brain. They called it the Sword of Ajunta Pall; I think my ancestor used it, 'cuz it felt... Familiar, somehow."

Cynthe swallowed back the taste of bile in her throat. ' _A force-sensitive empath, who can recall the memories of others in his bloodline? Force-sensitivity is strong in bloodlines; he must have the potential to become one of the greatest Jedi Masters of his time! And here I'm supposed to train him?! I don't know if I am the luckiest woman in history, or the unluckiest. Either way, things aren't going to be boring anymore.'_

The young Zeltron woman smiled kindly, trying hee best to conceal the sudden rush of giddiness she felt. "What sorts of things?"

"A Sith blaster rifle is a really cheap piece of _ossik_ made by the dumbest _chakaars_ Czerka can find, their armor couldn't stop the fingernails of an old Twi'lek prostitute, and their vibroblades are even worse."

Al frowned, scowling darkly. "Damned thing shattered and nearly took my- I mean, my ancestor's _gett'se_ clean off. I almost wasn't born. He cussed that Czerka saleswoman up, down, left, right and sideways in six different languages until she gave him his credits back for every Czerka product he had. Including all eighty-seven explosive devices he had on his person at the time. The rest of the horde he gutted for the baradium, which he rewired into his own homemade _goores_. I can also tell you exactly how to sabotage a blaster rifle so's it'll explode into millions of tiny pieces, which will most likely wind up embedded right in some poor _chakaar's_ face. And how to rework a speeder's repulsorlift engines to go either really, really, _really_ fast, or make it explode the moment you get it into gear. Some ways to fabricate or acquire weaponry and explosives on occupied worlds, common weak points in powered armor and a lot of other cool stuff. There's also some things to do with hacking computers, breaching security systems, breaking locks, finding ways into secure comms, and how to fix droids and most of the different machinery you'll find on starships. Of course, he preferred percussive maintenance. You know, kick the _ossik_ out of stuff until it works. Heh, heheh, I also rememeber how to make a heat-activated glue that looks and works like personal lubricant until it's waaay too late. Heheh."

Cynthe swallowed drily. This kid was going to be a handfull, she already knew. "Can you tell me about the earliest memory you can remember?"

Al shrugged. "Sure, but I kinda forget who I am when I go digging too deep, and my ancestor was really violent, used lots and lots of dirty language and had a really dirty mind, so don't hit me for telling you everything." Before she could get another word in edgewise, he closed his eyes, taking a deep, calming breath.

Wait. A really dirty mind? Oh, no.

It was then that those clear, curious blue eyes snapped open, but they weren't the same; his gaze was cold, analytical, and... _Hard,_ for lack of a better explanation. No, a complete and total stranger was looking out of those eyes, and judging from how he sized her up... He was dangerous.

 _Very_ dangerous.

In that moment, she could literally feel him reaching out for her through the Force, his intoxicating power enchroaching upon her own like a net of rose-scented razorwire, probing her defenses and testing her reactions.

Cynthe then realized just why the boy was so gifted; this man's power was immense. She could feel the currents of the Force shift and bend around him, leaving a strange, echoing absense where he stood; it was almost like a form of camouflage, like bending light around oneself to create optic camo.

Only, the phenomenon was absolutely _**massive,**_ leaving a starship-sized patch of sheer nothingness where life once flowed, her own echoes drowned out by the deafening silence.

Then there was what little Cynthe could perceive of his emotions; the sheer bloodlust she felt rolling off of him drowned out everything around them, leaving her shaking as a cold sweat began sliding down the back of her neck.

And yet, this was not the man himself, only an echo of his presense. Cynthe swallowed drily; the legends say that compared to the ancient Jedi, the current generation of Jedi Masters are mere children, playing at being Jedi. If Alexander Roidsworth the 31st is this powerful as an echo...

Just how strong was he, at his peak?

"Another Zeltron, I see." He finally spoke, and while his voice hadn't changed, his tone definitely had. He sounded like an old soldier awoken from his slumber by a child, revealing little beyond his irritation and amusement at her curiousity... A soldier who had just spent an entire day breathing nothing but helium. It would have been absolutely comical, if not for the fact that it made him seem even more intimidating than she could've imagined; like dressing up a drexl to look like a gizka. "So tell me; what is it you wish to learn, little _dar'Jettai_?"

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

 _ **A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...**_

 _"Mmmngh..."_

 _I couldn't help but groan at the ungodly waves of arousal flooding my consciousness as I looked up at the pair of beautiful women, languidly grinning from ear-to-ear. Revan let loose a throaty chuckle as she started moving down my body; despite the mask, I soon felt her lips pressing against me again and again, her tongue tracing tantalizing lines up and down my thigh, moving closer and closer to the throbbing ache of longing that made itself known._

 _But all the while, Meetra was pressing those mesmerizing breasts of hers against me as we kissed, our tongues violently fighting for dominance._

 _This had been going on for several long, mind-shattering minutes, my lust competing against my endurance, and with these two buxom beauties working me and my mighty shaft like true professionals, my legendary endurance was losing._

 _Quite badly, in fact. "UNGH! I'm gonna-"_

 ***BA-DOOOOMSHKA!***

 **[Cue Music: Out ta Get Me, by Halestorm]**

 _'The fuck-?'_ Was all I had time to think before I was ripped from their warm embrace and back into harsh, cold and _frelling_ cock-blocking reality. My body was forcibly torn from my warm, almost-comfortable bunk and yanked through my weightless room aboard the _Endar Spire_ as all the air was sucked out through a massive breach in her hull.

Hitting every single piece of solid, heavy and/or flailing debris on my way out. " _Ossik_ -Ack!- _fierfek_ -Oof!- _slana'pir_ -Fweugh!- _frelling-_ Guah!- _kriffing-_ Augh,motherfucker!"

It was at this moment I decided that today, someone is getting my boot up their ass.

I'd just barely managed to snatch my helmet out of the sky when I was pulled into the black, latching the modified Commando helmet and pressurizing it by rote muscle memory. Unfortunately, my squadmates weren't as lucky, probably because I was the only one who had been sleeping in his armor.(Started doing that back during the Mandalorian wars. But their armor is much more comfortable to sleep in, the lucky whoresons)

After enduring a few more minutes of bouncing off of pieces of the ship, my dead and/or dying comrades and our furniture, I finally managed to right myself and took a moment to catch my breath and take stock of the situation. After that moment, I cursed rather fiercely before glancing around and finding out what just happened; the ship I was on, the _Endar Spire,_ was taking fire from a massive Sith warship; looked like a Hammerhead-class cruiser.

...Or three.

"I swear to _Haran,_ these godless fucks always seem to attack whenever I'm in the middle of taking a nap," I growled to myself, snagging a rifle that had been floating nearby. It was the standard issue high-powered, short-barrelled Commando unit based on Cinnagaran Carbines and reverse-engineered Mandalorian blaster rifles; they don't get as many shots from each power pack as a standard Republic rifle and aren't as powerful as a full-on disruptor, but they're compact, and they work wonders against these Sith _hut'uuns_.

They also use the same packs and gas canisters as the el-cheapo Czerka _ossik_ those Sith call blasters, so yeah.

I refill when I kill.

This one in particular looked to have been Corporal Huighlar's; neat kill marks along the grip and receiver, fresh blaster pack and tibanna gas, sights are just a smidge to the left of target.

Guy always did like to challenge himself...

I glance over to where he was currently floating in nothing but his green jumpsuit, blue in the face with his eyes bulged out. _Chakaar_ still owes me fifty creds, but I'll call it square for taking his blaster. I leveled the weapon at the _Spire,_ switching the selector to the underbarrel grappling hook and squeezing the trigger.

After the magnetic 'hook' took hold of the ship's hull some twenty meters away, I clipped the weapon to my belt and began the tedious task of reeling myself in. Some sixteen seconds later, I was back in my quarters, angrily marching towards the door.

I activated my commlink, calling, "Roidsworth to Captain Onasi. Somebody just killed my squad and interrupted the best dream I've had in the past decade. Unfortunately for them, I've decided that I'm a little behind on my murder quota."

Carth responds, _"That you, Lieutenant? Good to hear you're still kicking. I thought the Sith vented that entire deck with that last torpedo."_

"Aye, they did. Someone forgot to tell them the golden rule."

 _"Never wake a sleeping Commando... Heh. We're about to get some uninvited guests, so why don't you go give them the traditional Commando greeting and show 'em why the slot-faces still call you_ _ **Prudii be'Jettai?**_ _"_

"Aye-aye, skipper. One bloody, screamin' ass-kicking comin' right up!"

I exited my quarters with the help of my magnetic boots, fusing the door shut to keep idiots from getting sucked into vacuum, and brought up a map of the ship on my HUD, checking to see where the Sith were landing. A moment later, I found no less than six entry points being flooded with hostiles.

Right-o; we are green and very, _VERY_ mean!

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Shock troopers!"

"There's too many!"

"Fuck this, fall back!"

"Belay that! HOLD THE LINE! This is their main force, the backbone of their assault! If we beat them here, we've won! Now push these Sith whoresons back into whatever void they crawled out of! FIGHT, MARINES!"

" _Fierfek!_ Assault droid incoming!"

"Frag ou- GUAGH! HIT! I'm hit!"

The Sergeant glanced around the corner he had been shouting behind, muttering curses to himself. "Fuck me sideways..."

As the panicked Republic marines and crewmen valiantly tried to repel the Sith invaders, they found themselves vastly outnumbered, and terrifyingly outmatched. That is, until a certained red-headed soldier sidled up to the Sergeant and spoke, making the older man jump. "Not even if you paid me, you ugly old son of a gun."

"W-WHAT THE HELL?! _Ossik,_ I never thought I'd be so glad to see _you_ , Lieutenant!"

The Commando ignored his outburst and asked a very simple question. "Status?"

 ***BA-DOOOMSHKA!***

As the force of the explosion knocked the Sergeant flat on his ass, a staggering number of blood-covered human body parts flew by their heads, which the two veterans calmly ignored. None of them were wearing silver.

The valiant Sergeant remained exactly where he was on the floor as he answered, "Fucked."

Lieutenant Alexander Roidsworth the thirty-first sighed melodramactically, shaking his helmet-covered head. "How the _Haran_ you managed to survive the Mandalorians for ten years is beyond me..." The Commando then bravely stepped over the cowardly NCO and around the corner, taking in the scene.

All he said was, "If you want something done _**right...**_ **"**

Moments later, three thermal detonators flew by the remaining Republic Marines' heads, landing square in the middle of the Sith formation, shortly followed by a portable shield generator, which landed directly in front of the Marines before activating, throwing up a bright blue barrier that sealed the entire hallway.

 ***THWOHP!***

And like that, the deadened sound of an explosion heralded yet another small breach in the _Spire's_ hull, sucking the majority of the Sith assault force straight up and outward to die a slow death, floating in space.

Sometimes, all it takes is an officer who's willing to get his hands dirty.

Roidsworth sighed once more. "Now I can hear myself _frelling_ think. Alright Marines, field strip the dead for supplies and start setting up traps for the enemy. They'll regroup and return soon enough." He activated his comm, hailing the bridge crew. "Ensign, close emergency bulkheads Bravo-42 through Echo-27. Tell the Captain I'm redirecting what's left of this squad back to rally point Whiskey to fortify our position outside the Bridge."

A young female voice answered his call. _"Understood, Lieutenant. Knight Tisika is currently engaging a Dark Jedi just ahead of the defenders on Theta deck, and requires immediate assistance."_

Alexander nodded. "Aye-aye. ETA four minutes." He deactivated the comm and looked up, glancing at the remaining Marines and crewmen whose lives would, more than likely, be over within the next hour. "Alright ladies, you're falling back to regroup with the Bridge defenders at rally point Whiskey. Fresh blaster packs and heads on a swivel, you know the drill. Move out, and don't get yourselves killed. I'll rejoin you with reinforcements shortly."

With that, the twenty-eight-year-old veteran started off, jogging in a different direction that the others went, only stopping when he came to an elevator. He hit the consle next to it, and when the door opened, he found that the elevator was at the bottom of the shaft, its repulsorlifts completely destroyed.

He shook his head, muttering to himself, " _Ossik._ Guess I'm doing this the fun way!" He then leapt into the darkened shaft, readying his grappling hook.

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

" _DIE_ , Jedi whore!"

* **Kt-TSHKNIAHNG!** *

Crimson collided with Cerulean as Tisika Korvel hastily blocked the Dark Jedi's overhead strike, her feet sliding across the deck from the sheer strength behind the blow. She deftly twisted her weapon as she stepped around him, skirting her blade across his own, aiming for his throat.

She came close, but didn't quite reach her mark when he slashed at her and ducked backward, twisting away from her with a snarl. While he didn't manage to actually cut her, his blade passed through her belt and a number of the pouches on it, nevermind the painful burns spreading across her hips and buttocks.

Amidst the clatter of her possession hitting the floor, he raised his lightsaber once more, preparing to charge her when they heard something else ominous.

* _KT-chk-chk-chk-TKTKTKTK..._ *

Tisika looked down between the Dark Jedi's feet as he did the same, watching as a small cylidrical object rolled to a stop against his shoes. She just barely had time to think, _'Oh, krif-!'_

When it exploded.

 ***BA-DOOOOOOOOMSHKAAAaaaa...!***

Deaf and blind, Tisika deactivated her blade and dropped to the deck, rolling as far away from the Dark Jedi as she could; she could just barely make out the sound of distant blaster fire over the ringing in her ears.

After rolling to a stop, she pushed herself up on one knee and activated her lightsaber, fully surrendering herself to the Force as she reached out for the life around her, and felt nothing but bloodlust.

She felt a strong hand on her shoulder, steadying her as she struggled to hear his words. "Easy, Jedi _._ He's dead." Tisika couldn't focus enough to hear his thoughts, but she could now sense that his anger was not directed at her, as he pulled the Jedi Knight to her feet. A minute later, still blinking back the spots in her vision, she found herself faced with a Republic soldier dressed in battered Commando armor, who was holding something out to her.

"Think you dropped this."

Tisika blinked owlishly, numbly pulling the vibration cell from his hands and stuffing it into one of the undamaged pouches on her belt. "Thank you, ah-" He had officer's bars on the collar of his armor; he was a Lieutenant. "Lieutenant."

He shrugged. "No trouble, sorry I couldn't give you a heads-up. You injured?" He asked, indicating the swathe of burnt robes and bright-pink skin across her backside.

"N-no," She stammered, fighting to keep from blushing. "I'm fine, it's just a graze. How did you manage to shoot him? I could still sense you, even while blind and deaf." The Dark Jedi in question was lying on the floor in a distinctly undignified position, a considerable portion of his head missing.

The Commando jerked a thumb behind himself, towards one of the- The perfectly polished mirror-like wall decorations directly across from the door he had entered from. "Shooting a Jedi or Sith head-on is like shooting yourself in the _shebs_. But if they're in the middle of something and you aren't directly aiming at them, well..." He shrugged, miming his head exploding with an accompanying sound effect, not unlike a wet fart.

"I saw a lot of Jedi killed during the wars, and near the end, I saw some Mandalorians using reflective objects to lay ambushes for Jedi. It was clever, but it didn't make much of a difference. Besides, flashbangs are still pretty effective for disorienting Sith, and that _chakaar_ was no master; better men than him have died trying to kill me."

Jedi Knight Tisika shook her head once more before asking, "Where's the rest of your squad? There were supposed to be-" The Lieutenant stiffened just a little, and she could feel the tiniest hint of sorrow coming off of him before she shut her mouth. "Oh... I'm sorry."

"It's alright. By the way... Why were you carrying a vibration cell?" He asked, deflecting her apology; she could sense the perversion behind his question.(Classic misdirection)

Tisika fought hard against the burning that crept up her cheeks, but eventually lost out as he began chuckling. "Forget it. We've got company." He turned and raised his weapon, the humor suddenly gone from his emotions as he levelled his blaster at the nearby door she'd fused earlier; someone was cutting through it. "How many?"

The Jedi Knight was having difficulty sensing whoever was on the other side, but one thing was clear; they were not Sith. "Two. I don't think they're Sith."

Moments later, it finally opened, and they found another pair of Republic soldiers on the other side. "Hold fire!" One of them shouted, the white-haired male with the Alderaan accent.

"You good, Ulgo?" The Lieutenant asked, lowering his rifle.

Trask Ulgo,(Tisika had seen him around before) nodded, replying, "Yeah, I found Aoniken, but everyone else back in the barracks was dead by the time I got there."

Lieutenant Roidsworth(His surname was emblazoned on the front of his armor) cursed fluently. _"Slana'pir..._ Well, that makes for one Ensign, a Jedi and two Commandos against an entire _frelling_ Regiment of Sith shock troopers and a handful of sithspawn saber-jockies. _"_

The other Commando, an armored woman called Aoniken, quipped, "Sounds like an even fight to me, LT."

He nodded, chuckling darkly. "True enough, Sergeant. Alright, we're heading for Rally point Whiskey; hopefully we'll regroup with at least two other squads. If they don't report in, we'll make for the bridge and have our heroic last stand. B-Formation; Aoniken, we've got the strongest armor, so we'll take point. Ulgo, you're in the middle, just behind us. Jedi." He turned towards her, and she could tell he was looking her straight in the eyes. "I need you to bring up the rear, make sure if we get hit in the _shebs,_ we don't go down before we can shoot back. Everyone clear?"

Tisika nodded; she disliked taking orders, but she could recognize the wisdom in his words. This was not his first time leading a squad, and most definitely wasn't his first time working with Jedi; he knew their strengths and weaknesses, and how to best deploy them. Tisika also noted that, as a Jedi, the Lieutenant considered her too valuable an asset to place her in the front of their formation, where she would be the most useful, deflecting enemy blaster fire.

As an explosion rocked the Endar Spire once more, the Sergeant raised her hand, asking, "Sir, shouldn't we be heading for the escape pods at this point? This tub is done."

Roidsworth nodded sagely. "Obviously, but the escape pods are right next to the bridge, so we at least have to show the _semblance_ of martyrdom. Besides, we need to secure Bastila, and we're too far from Taris to jettison, anyway; those cruisers would pluck us out of the sky. We need to hold out for a few more minutes before we can safely abandon ship."

Aoniken blinked owlishly, rubbing the back of her helmet as she thoughtfully asked, "...Is it even possible to 'safely' abandon ship?"

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

 **[Cue Music: Trenches, by Pop Evil]**

"Sergeant, get that door open NOW!" Alexander's voice was barely audible over the screaming and blaster fire as the Lieutenant returned fire with one hand while simultaneously blocking Trask's body with his own, struggling to jab a stim pack in the injured man's leg.

The Jedi was doing her best to deflect as much of the enemy fire as she could, but no Jedi could possibly catch every single bolt that passed by their heads.

Raven Aoniken could feel the occasional blaster shot impact against the backside of her armor, and she found herself immensely thankful for the Commando _kama_ that hung from her belt, protecting the vulnerable backs of her knees from blaster fire. The half-skirts were originally a Mandalorian garment, but Republic Commandos adopted them along with numerous other Mandalorian tactics. A cortosis weave through the tough synthetic leather helps to protect the wearer's legs, particularly from shrapnel and-

* _ **PEIOWNGHLF!**_ *

Ow. Stray blaster shots.

Raven took one hand away from her vital task of slicing the door controls to swat the small flame that sprang up from where a crimson bolt had slapped into her _kama._ Besides being uncomfortably warm under fire, they tend to occasionally burn when repeated hits melt away the flame-retardent finish.

As a Combat Engineer, Raven is expected to perform duties that require the skills of a specialist, ranging from demolitions to cryptology, and usually has to be done while taking fire from the enemy, whom is usually shooting at her while she is bent over whatever she's working on; this is the reason Engineers almost always wear an armored _kama._ Burnt asscheeks are a common complaint amongst Commando Combat Engineers, earning them the nickname 'Baboons.'

Still better than the alternative of structurally-superfluous new rectal orifices.

"Sergeant, where are we on that door?!" Roidsworth roared once more, still body-blocking Task's unmoving form against the overwhelming number of Sith troopers that encroached on our position, almost heedless of the hail of blaster fire that slammed into his armored body, never budging an inch. Whatever he used to reinforce the plastoid must be really _frelling_ tough. _Beskar?_

As she stopped herself from being distracted by the Lieutenant's remarkable lack of self-preservation, "Fifteen seconds!" She called back, her vambrace-mounted computer still plugged into the door console. Whomever fused this door shut did a damn good job of sealing it; but Raven was better. "Got it!" And as the words left her mouth, what felt like a sledgehammer made of pure molten lead slammed into the back of her head, sending her spawling through the doorway as everything started to go dark.

Roidsworth got to his feet, dragging Ulgo along the floor as he moved backwards, still firing on the rapidly-approaching Sith platoon. He'd just made it through when he nearly tripped over Aoniken's body. "Gah, _krif!_ Jedi, get over here!"

Tisika continued to retreat, swatting every blaster bolt that came close to hitting her. "Lieutenant, now would be a good time to close the door on them." She called, her voice surprisingly calm.

"That's what I'm doing!" He shouted back, his hands buried up to his elbows in the console on the opposite side of the door. " _Ossik,_ Sergeant, why couldn't you wait until after closing the door to get shot..." Roidsworth muttered darkly, ignoring the excruciating pain each time he endured an electric shock from the exposed wiring.(Whenever he touched a wire in the wrong spot, he got shocked and his arms twitched, touching more wires. This meant more shocks, more twitching, etc. Bad day all around)

His armor was a mishmash of plastoid and _beskar_ , and while his armored undersuit offered some insulation, the heavy Mandalorian iron plates were an excellent conductor.

A solid half-minute passed before the redhead finally shouted, " _ELEK!_ Door's closing!" And within seconds, the heavy bulkhead shut. "Tisika, fuse this console."

The Jedi Knight nodded, walking over and jabbing the blade of her lightsaber through the console as far as she could, working it around to ensure it was destroyed.

Roidsworth nodded, satisfied, and got to his feet to move over to the two downed Republic soldiers. He rolled Trask onto his back before shaking his head, and closing the soldier's blank, unseeing eyes. "Damn it all _..._ _Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum_. I'm sorry, _vod._ "

Tisika couldn't help but feel out of place, as though she were intruding on something she shouldn't. "Is... Isn't that a Mandalorian prayer?"

The Commando shook his head, taking Ulgo's holotags and pocketing them. "No. It is a promise; though you are dead, I am still alive. I will remember you, and so you shall be eternal. It is a Mandalorian funeral chant only spoken when a warrior has fallen in battle. It is an honor that cannot be explained in words. I fought alongside Ulgo back during the wars... He deserved better than this." He got to his feet, hurrying over to the injured Commando. "Hmph, she's still breathing. _Jate'kara,_ lucky little soldier."

He took a few moments to thoroughly inspect the burned back of her helmet before he unlatched it, gingerly pulling it off of the unconscious woman; the back of her head was lightly burned through her jet-black hair, and there was a definite knot forming where she'd been hit. _'_ _Mesh'la dala,_ _'_ He thought to himself as he saw her face. Though marred by a thin scar that went from the corner of her mouth all the way up her cheek and past her right eye, she was undoubtedly gorgeous.

Roidsworth quickly reached into his pouch, and found that he had no more stimpacks nor bandages left; just a small kolto phial. He glanced at Trask's body; the man's uniform was absolutely shredded from repeated blaster hits. _"Ossik._ Jedi, you got any bandages? _"_

Tisika patted herself down, finding that her medical kit had been destroyed along with half of her equipment belt. "No, sorry. Oh, hang on." She then turned away from him and reached into the top of her robes, fiddling around with something between her shoulderblades.

A moment later, she procured a long, thick strip of black cloth, which she wordlessly handed to the Lieutenant after readjusting her robes.

Roidsworth blinked owlishly under his helmet. "Is- Is this your-?"

"Yes," She curtly replied, blushing fiercely when Roidsworth fully realized what she'd handed him. "But we've no other options at this point. Just do what you need to."

Alexander blinked once, twice. He had never before constructed medical supplies out of someone else's underwear. Shrugging it off,(He'd had to do weirder things to save people during the Mandalorian Wars) He doused a section of the long cloth with kolto, placing that section against Aoniken's burns before carefully wrapping it around her head and tying it off like a bandana.

That done, he glanced over her helmet; the rear of the casing was cracked and the interior stank of stale sweat and singed hair, not to mention the visor and rebreather were fried.

Useless. This is why he hated plastoid helmets.

Shaking his head, he tossed the broken piece of junk aside and got to his feet, hauling Aoniken up on his shoulder. "Alright, that's enough rest. Come on." He slapped his rifle against the magnets on the back of his armor and activated his commlink. "Roidsworth to Captain Onasi. The other squads didn't make it. We're pulling back to the bridge pending final contingency. We are down to myself, Knight Tisika and Sergeant Aoniken; but the Sergeant's been injured, and she's unconscious. If you've got anyone with medical training, tell them to get prepped for a headcase."

Carth sighed on the other end. _"Understood, Lieutenant. Get up here as quick as you can, we're coming into Taris' orbit now."_

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Amidst the crimson chaos of blaster fire and the screams of dying soldier, the Commando retreated with his comrade over his shoulder, counting on the Jedi's saber to prevent the approaching enemy from ventilating the injured Sergeant while Roidsworth worked on getting the last bulkhead shut.

"Door's closing, ten seconds!"

"Acknowledged." Tisika replied, an eerie calm brought on by the sheer exhaustion of constantly deflecting hundreds, if not thousands of bolts over the last few minutes. Despite her fatigue, her focus was getting better, bringing everything into perfect clarity as she immersed herself in the Force.

And as the massive durasteel hatch slammed shut, a second one just behind them popped open. "What took you guys so long?" Captain Carth Onasi called from his chair, hardly looking away from the holographic display in front of him. His tone was light and friendly, even as his ship was being shot down out of the sky by his hated enemy.

I stepped forward, setting the injured Commando onto the floor as I checked over her injuries again, a wry grin hidden by my helmet. "Had more muppets than blaster packs. It takes time to reload, sir."

Carth chuckled, hitting another sequence of haptic keys on his chair's console. "Fair enough, Lieutenant. You got an ETA on when we should be expecting company?"

"Aye, sir. Cap'n, we need to scuttle this ship and get to the escape pods as quickly as possible. We've got no more than seven minutes before the Sith stop playing with their _gett'se_ and breach the hatch."

"Seven minutes?!" Carth jubilantly exclaimed, an expression of mock horror on his face.

"Seven minutes," I drawled. I knew where this was going.

Carth melodramatically slammed his fist into the armrest of his chair as he shouted, "But seven minutes is all I can spare!"

I couldn't help chuckling at the running joke that had been one of Carth's little quirks he had picked up during the Mandalorian Wars. His wingman had broken formation to save an escape pod before Carth's wing engaged a squadron of Mandalorian starfighters; apparently, Carth warned him that he only had seven minutes before the shooting would start, and the man's last words were, 'Seven minutes?! How did you know how long I last?!' Or so the story goes.

That sorry joke is probably the only reason Carth can laugh instead of cry whenever he hears the phrase 'Seven Minutes.'

He was the only one situated here in the Bridge; all the other crewmen, and Bastila, must have aleady made for the escape pods. Heh, the Captain is always the last one to abandon ship.

Anyway, the Jedi behind me sighed. "Is now really the best time for jokes, Captain?"

Carth spun in his seat, all traces of that easy smile of his completely gone. "Yeah, it is. I find that if the Captain can't keep calm under adverse conditions, then he can't expect his crew to do so. Now come on, I've scuttled the computers. There's nothing left to keep us here."

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"Augh..." Raven groaned, opening her eyes for what felt like the first time in months, her entire body aching like the morning after shore leave. But most disturbing of it all she could see nothing but darkness. " _Fierfek_. Someone please tell me the lights are off and I'm not blind."

Suddenly, the painfully-bright, blinding light returned as something warm and moist was pulled off of her face, and the Sergeant found herself staring up at Captain Onasi's bearded face. "Good to see you up and about instead of thrashing around in your sleep."

Raven blinked back tears and sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes; she then noticed that someone had removed most of her armor, leaving her in the undersuit. "What happened? Last thing I remember, I was trying to open a sealed hatch on the _Endar Spire._ "

"You got hit, but Jedi Tisika and the Lieutenant got you to safety. We got to the escape pods and crashed on Taris two days ago, you've been slipping in and out of consciousness ever since. We're in an abandoned apartment right now, but we should be fairly safe for the moment. Try to take it easy, you took a nasty bump on the head, and the crash landing sure didn't do you any favors." With that, the Captain retreated to a small table on the other side of the small room, sitting down and returning to cleaning his prized sidearm.

Raven then noticed the other person in the room; the Jedi Knight that she and the Lieutenant met up with. Tisika was currently sitting on the floor not far from the Captain, legs folded and her eyes closed. Some kind of meditation, she guessed.

Just then, the door to the apartment opened, and just as Carth raised his hastily-assembled pistol, Lieutenant Roidsworth stepped inside, hauling a pair of Sith durasteel day packs. "Oy. Breakfast is served." Before he'd even taken three steps, he retrieved a small parcel from within one of the packs, tossing it to the Captain.

Having caught the object with practiced ease, Carth said, "Good to see you made it back in one piece, Roidsworth. Heh, say what you will about the Sith, but they have damn good field rations."

After setting down one of the packs and passing a second meal to the seemingly-asleep Jedi, Roidsworth pulled off his helmet, revealing his shaggy flame-colored hair. "Aye, not half bad for Czerka." He then proceded to approach Raven, sitting down on the bed adjacent to the one she currently occupied.

He reached into the pack, procuring both a rifle, and a pre-packaged meal. "Here. You may have survived the crash, but most of your equipment wasn't as lucky, so you'll have to make due with this Sith _ossik."_

She nodded, allowing herself a small smile as she looked over the Czerka knock-off. "Thanks. Did my armor survive?"

"Yeah, a little beaten up and minus a helmet, but it's in the footlocker over yonder." He jerked his head towards the far wall, where there was, indeed, a footlocker. "You're a Commando too, right? Heard you got pulled from your unit by the _Jettai_ for some 'special' op, same as my squad. "

Raven nodded once more, tearing into the cheap, ready-to-shit Czerka meal. "Uh-huh, though I still have no idea what it is. Probably never will, now. That was Mando'a, right? You fought in the wars, I take it?"

"Yup. First Commando Regiment, third Battalion, Delta Company."

Upon hearing that, she grinned a little wider. "Meetra's Maniacs. I should've known a Roidsworth wouldn't be anyplace but where the fighting was thickest."

"Hah, so you have heard of us." The LT stood and brought his heels together, raising his hand in a crisp salute. "General Surik's adjutant, Lieutenant Alexander Roidsworth the thirty-first, second son of Admiral Alexander the twenty-nineth, at your service, Madam...?"

She returned the salute. "Sergeant Raven Aoniken. I was in Echo Company."

Alex's expression softens as he retakes his seat, breaking open his own meal. "Ah... So you're one of the survivors of Serroco. I'd heard a handful of the Commandos stationed there to train the Serrocans managed to dodge the nukes."

Raven quirked a brow, scoffing. "Dodge? Hah! That was sheer dumb luck on my part." She indicated the old scar that ran across her cheek, the only thing marring her beauty. "That chunk of shrapnel would've taken my _frelling_ head off if I hadn't tripped over a power cable. I'm just glad I'd been facing away from the blast; my corpsman wasn't that lucky."

"None of mine have been lucky. I've had sixteen different medics in the last ten years, and every one of them was crippled or KIA. Oddly enough, now that I think about it, none of them were directly killed by a Mandalorian."

"I think they understood better than anyone that if they killed ever _baar'ur_ they met, there'd be no one left to patch them up at the end of the day. What's with the bandana?" She finally asked, fingering the thick strip of soft, black cloth tied around her forehead.

The LT hooked a thumb towards where Carth and the Jedi were sitting. "A gift from the Jedi. Didn't have any bandages on me when you got hit. Frankly, you're lucky as hell that helmet saved you, and luckier still to not have some kind of permanent brain damage from the crash."

She nodded, not even suspecting just where on her person the Jedi had procured that cloth from. "So, what's the situation?"

Al stroked his chin, glancing over to where the Captain was stuffing his face before answering. "Long or short version?"

Quirking a brow, she responded, "Brief, if you would. I'd like to have time to get a nap in today."

His answer was short, concise, and accurate. "Fucked."

Raven nodded sagely, somehow drawing all the information she needed from that one crude summary. "Rodian, or Trandoshian?"

"Wookie."

She blinked owlishly. "Oh. That's bad. Well, at least it isn't Gamorrean."

Alexander added, "Or Thakwaash. We'd be really screwed, then."

The Captain just now seemed to pick up on their conversation, and palmed his face with a groan. Tisika looked over at him, asking, "What are they going on about?"

Carth sighed. "You really don't want to know. On second thought, you'll just ask them or read their minds, so I'll try to explain it gently. Okay, Commandos usually wind up undertaking suicide missions in enemy territory. Almost all of their operations are insanely dangerous, and they are put into terrible situations. They have a fairly simple, intuitive covert ranking structure for explaining just how bad a certain situation is very quickly, without giving away anything if they're being spied on. In this case, 'fucked' means being trapped in enemy territory. Understand?"

The Jedi reluctantly nodded, finally realizing just how crude this system must be. "I'm with you so far."

He continued the explanation. "So, they use the different races to explain just how bad their perdicament is."

Tisika rubbed the back of her head, asking, "So what do the different races mean, in that instance?"

"Some describe the type of environment they're in, others describe the type of enemy resistance."

In the middle of this, the Sergeant chuckled, calling, "Basically it explains how bad the situation is by saying we're getting fucked by a Wookie. It sucks, it's hairy, it's painful, but it's not as bad as it could be."

All of a sudden, it's like a switch was flipped, and the Jedi understood. "Ah-ha. I see why you said I'd rather not know, Captain. I have only one question, and I'm probably going to regret it, but... Thakwaash?"

Alexander answered with a single word that summed up the entire reasoning why the codeword 'Thakwaash' was considered far, far worse than Wookie or Gamorrean. "Horsecock."

As soon as the word left his mouth, both Commandos started giggling to themselves like it was the funniest thing in the world.

The Jedi Knight sighed. "You were right, Captain. I think I would have rather not known."

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

 _ **Hey, Let's learn some Mando'a! Check for the best dictionary I've found. I'm not affiliated with the site, and if your computer gets "Teh SUPER-AIDS," I claim no responsibility.**_

 _Ossik: Shit. Bullshit, horseshit or other meanings revolving around fecal matter, depending on the situation._

 _Chakaar: Generic insult. Idiot, moron, dumbass, etc._

 _Gett'se: Dual meaning. Balls, or Guts/courage/nerve, etc. Literal or metaphorical, depending._

 _Hut'uun: Coward. One of the worst and most serious insults that can be levelled against a Mandalorian._

 _Goore: Grenade._

 _Haar'chak: Damnit._

 _Slana'pir: A more serious way of saying 'get lost,' or 'get out.' It essentially translates to 'Fuck off.'_

 _Ramikad:_ **Commando.** _Other translations include; 'Dangerous motherfucker,' and 'Big-dick whoreson.'_

 _Vod: Brother, comrade or close friend._

 _Mesh'la: Beautiful_

 _Dala: Woman_

 _Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum: Mandalorian funeral chant._ "I am still alive, you are dead. But I will remember you, so you shall be eternal."

 _ **Reference include, but are not limited to: DBZ Abridged, Star Wars KOTOR 1/2, Bulletstorm, Halo ODST, Code MENT, Resident Evil 5,**_


	2. Chapter 2 Terrifying Taris

**Star Wars**

 **Ramikad**

My standard form of writing applies.

" " - Spoken

 _' '_ \- Thoughts, usually in _italics,_ as well.

( ) - Commentary. I'm a smartass. You should know what goes here. My smartass commentary. Usually funny, always interesting. Details and explanations, or my personal opinions, unfiltered.

 _Italics-_ Usually things of importence. Flashbacks and certain things are in italics to seperate them from the rest of the story.

 **Bold!-** Things like **this** are things that just stand out. Usually pretty badass, or just really scary.

Underlined words are oddball parts; anything that stands out, but doesn't fall into the two above categories.

 _ **Things in this font are sometimes Author commentary, or truly profound statements.**_

Those things just below this line, are seperators. They seperate different sections. Simple, yes?

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

 _ **"A Liberal is someone who feels a great debt to his fellow man, which debt he proposes to pay off with your money." -**_ **G. Gordon Liddy**

 **STOP**

 **Go read Creen's KOTOR story, "Candle in the Dark." It's awesome, the best KOTOR story on this site, bar none. And he is currently working on the KOTOR 2 sequel, "Sundered," which is already looking pretty damn good.**

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

#2 _**Terrifying Taris**_

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"So LT, what's the plan?" Carth asked, having finished his food in record time.

Tisika looked between the two of them, asking, "You're putting him in charge?"

The veteran pilot nodded calmly, answering rather matter-of-factly. "Yes. He's an expert on guerrilla warfare, and he's survived being stranded on hostile planets under much worse conditions. If you would, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, sir." Alexander got to his feet, tapping away at the vambrace-mounted computer on the underside of his left forearm. "As I'm sure you're aware, the first thing we need to do is fully outline our goals, our mission, and get our priorities straight. Priority one; find and rendezvous with Bastila. Priority two; escape Taris and return to Republic-controlled space. In order to achieve these goals, the very first thing we need to do is to gather more intelligence."

Above his wrist appeared a hologram, depicting some kind of map. "This is a rough map of the immediate area, as well as what I could gather of the lower city below us. I've marked the locations of Sith checkpoints and patrol routes as best I can, but this is still very rough and subject to verification."

The Jedi knight whistled softly. The map was remarkably well-detailed, with landmarks, equipment shops, cantinas, patrol routes, roadblocks, checkpoints, escape pod crash sites, sniper hides, potential ambush and escape points... He may be strange, but Roidsworth is a consummate professional.

"To gather intel on Bastila's location, we'll need to head down into the lower city, since it appears that her escape pod landed someplace down in the undercity. After that, we'll need to infiltrate the Sith base to find out more about the planet-wide quarantine, and figure out how to get past it. But finding Bastila comes first, as we may be on a timetable. So, to get down to the lower city, we'll have to get through a Sith checkpoint, hence the uniforms I swiped. Security here on the surface is pretty lax, but once we get into the lower city, I'm confident things will be a bit more difficult with the gang wars going on." Having finished speaking, Alex deactivated the hologram while Carth stroked his chin, contemplating the information he'd received.

"Excellent work, Roidsworth." The Captain complimented, before musing, "Searching the lower city is still a dangerous gambit... But we don't have many options. When should we move out?"

Having anticipated this question, Alexander immediately answered, "Thank you, sir. I'd suggest we set out in about four standard hours, when it's dark out and the Sith are sending night patrols down into the lower city. Once we're down there, we can change out of the uniforms, seeing as we won't really stand out amongst the locals. Nobody here wants to help the Sith, and I hear the local swoop gangs take pot shots at them on a regular basis, so the disguises won't help us down there."

"Very well. We should all get some rest before heading out, then."

Alexander nodded, finally returning to the bed next to Raven, laying down and stretching out rather languidly.

All the while, Raven had been studying the armor and weapons that Roidsworth was carrying; his Commando carbine, the standard-issue heavy pistol on his hip, the knife on his left shoulder, the heavy _besker_ plates mixed in with the plastoid parts of his armor, several grenades and pouches of all kinds on his equipment belt, as well as a short vibro-axe on his back. It looked like a Merr-Sonn tomahawk; expensive, but the company boasted that its melee weaponry can puncture personal shields with ease, while being able to directly block and parry lightsabers for extended periods of time without failure.

She also takes note of the pair of vibroblades on the back of his belt, hidden under his survival pack, along with a second, smaller blaster pistol, though it wasn't one she could identify. It wasn't Republic-issue, she was certain, and didn't look particularly special. But somehow, she could sense that it was just like the Lieutenant himself; inconspicuous, unassuming, dangerous... And stained with the blood of hundreds, if not thousands. The blood of the innocent; the blood of evil; the blood of friend and foe alike, spattered across its sleek black casing.

A weapon used to kill heroes and villains, embedded with the unspeakable bloodlust of those who came to wield it, regardless of whether it was used in the name of justice... Or genocide.

She wasn't entirely sure how she could tell, but Raven was certain that everyone who carried that weapon met with a tragic end.

"Something on your mind, Sergeant?" Alex asked, a casual smirk on his handsome face, apparently having noticed her lingering gaze. "I know I make this armor look good, but if you stare any harder, you're going to burn holes in it." To emphasize his point, he rapped his plated knuckles against the breastplate, which rang with a metallic clanking noise.

Definitely _beskar_ then, and pretty thick, too, judging by the deep tone of the impact; she recognized the familiar sound from the war, and durasteel tends to make more of a tinny, annoying sound when armor plates connect. Breastplate, knuckles, forearms, codpiece, helmet... And it sounds like it's thicker than standard _beskar'gam._ That is a _lot_ of scavenged Mandalorian iron, considering the stuff is heavy as hell, and a nightmare to work with. Not to mention, Mandalorians are very meticulous about retrieving the equipment of their fallen brothers, and are more than willing to fight to the last man to stop outsiders from acquiring Mandalorian armor.

Raven took all that in, processing that information in the blink of an eye before responding, "Couldn't help noticing your armor's not exactly as-issued. _Beskar?_ "

He nodded, putting his hands under his head and getting comfortable. "Yup. During the war, I always felt as though we were at a significant disadvantage when it came to survivability compared to the Mandalorians, a fact easily attributed to their armor. You need heavy weaponry to get through it, or supernatural aim to hit weak points in the heat of battle. You could shoot a Mandalorian a hundred times, but if you only hit the plates, all you'd do was piss him off. I survived quite a few encounters that should've killed me, but I got lucky; a lot of my comrades didn't. So I got to thinking, why not level the playing field? Every chance we got, me and my squad scraped up whatever scrap _beskar_ we could get our hands on, and spent weeks figuring out the best way to work with the stuff. The end product is damn tough, even held up against more than a few glancing lightsaber blows, but it's not as good as properly forged _beskar'gam._ Had to make it thicker to achieve the same level of protection, and the armor wound up being far heavier than we'd anticipated; so we had to compromise, using standard plastoid where the extra protection isn't needed to keep the weight down. It still weighs almost the same as a full suit of _beskar'gam,_ and doesn't have the added benefit of being anywhere near as flexible. Say what you will of Mandalorians, but their armor is without equal."

With that, he closed his eyes, and was asleep in seconds. This was a talent unique to Commandos who, during training, are so sleep-deprived that they learn to fall asleep almost instantly, catching whatever sack time they possibly can.

You give a Commando a few extra hours to sleep, and he's happy as can be... But there is no better way to get him ready to _kill something_ than by waking him up.

Raven wisely let the veteran sleep, and turned over to get a little rest herself before they moved out.

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

A group of four individuals in Sith trooper armor exited the apartment building, nonchalantly marching onto the artificially-lit streets of Taris. As they went, Alexander quietly said, "Alright people, just act natural. The key to making a disguise work is to blend; act as if you belong here, and you'll be just fine. I know that armor's uncomfortable, Tisika, just try to bear with it until we get into the elevator."

Tisika did her best to follow the Lieutenant's instructions, but couldn't help fidgeting just a bit, unsure as to how he'd noticed her discomfort. The appropriated Sith armor she had donned was... Chafing in the worst possible places, and that was aside from the unnerving breeze she felt through a horizontal two-inch slice in the body glove directly above her rear end, evidence of exactly how the Lieutenant acquired the armor, even if he didn't leave any blood on it. The other Commando, the force-sensitive one, had no such difficulties with her armor. Tisika figured it was because Raven was used to wearing hardened plastoid armor, either that, or Roidsworth was extra careful in acquiring a suit specifically for her.

As they marched, the Jedi knight had to consciously time her footsteps to match Raven's, and did her best to avoid stepping on the dark-haired woman's heels. "Shift your grip on your rifle, else everyone's going to know you've never held one before. Hold it like I do." Raven quietly chastised, carefully turning to look around so Tisika could see exactly how the Sergeant wanted her to carry the heavy weapon.

After adjusting the way she hefted the bulky and inelegant weapon, Alexander muttered, "Heads up, checkpoint's just ahead. Game faces, people."

Just as he said, less than twenty yards away was a large automatic door flanked by two Sith troopers on either side, and Tisika could feel the boredom radiating off of them. This would hopefully go smoothly, and she wouldn't need to use any mind tricks. Manipulating others tends to leave a bad taste in her mouth.

Roidsworth greeted the trooper on the right with a nod, and without even saying a word, the trooper turned and activated a console that had been hidden behind him, opening the large elevator door. "Good luck down there."

"Thanks," the Lieutenant grunted, stepping into the elevator as the rest of us piled in behind him.

When the door slid shut and the turbolift began to descend, Tisika let go of a breath she hadn't even noticed she'd been holding. Carth clapped a hand on her armored shoulder, remarking, "Relax, Jedi. We're in good hands." But his reassurances did little to ease her frayed nerves.

How could he be so easygoing, stranded on a hostile planet? And what did he mean by 'good hands?'

As if reading her mind, the Lieutenant casually said, "We'll be alright, Jedi. I've survived worse. Heh, this kinda reminds me of the time I spent trapped on Onderon... Fewer things trying to eat me, though. Say Sergeant, were you on Dxun?"

Raven nodded, answering, "Yeah, spent a good two weeks trudging through that hellhole. Spent almost half that time on my own, trying to regroup with my unit. That place was essentially one big _frelling_ minefield."

Roidsworth nodded sagely. "I remember. General Surik absolutely despised mines, she said we lost a lot of Jedi to 'em. Heh, it was fun seeing the way she cleared a minefield, though. I'm pretty sure those Mandalorians were shitting themselves when it started raining land mines."

The Sergeant turned to stare at Alex, her voice filled with awe. "That was the _General?!_ _Haar'chak,_ I thought that was artillery. It's no wonder she was Revan's left hand."

"Yeah, she was pretty amazing... I'd give just about anything to have her here, right about now." As the Lieutenant finished speaking, Tisika could feel a hint of longing radiating off of him, as well as a mix of several other competing emotions. Respect, adoration, irritation, even love... Alex cared a great deal about the Exile. Tisika had still been a padawan at the time, but she had heard about it; Meetra Surik was the only Jedi who returned from the Mandalorian wars, but she returned a hollow shell of her former self.

The Jedi was pulled from her thoughts when the lift lurched to a stop, and the two Commandos readied their weapons. The door opened, and they both stepped out into a large hallway, each one checking their respective side of the elevator door before Alex took a knee and quietly said, "Area clear. Alright, time to ditch these deadman suits before anyone shows up." With that, both he and Raven pulled the durasteel day packs off their backs, setting them on the ground and quickly stripping out of the Sith armor with practiced efficiency before donning their own armor. They each had the undersuit from their own armor under the Sith body glove, making the process much easier. Tisika still did not know how they managed to tolerate that; the Sith armor was sweltering with nothing underneath, let alone with an extra layer.

In less than thirty seconds, both Commandos had completely changed over into their uniforms and returned to kneeling with their weapons at the ready.

Carth nudged her side. "That's our cue." He then began undoing the simple clasps that kept the armor plates in place.

Tisika began unbuckling her own, but didn't manage to do so as quickly as Carth, let alone the two Commandos. While she was struggling to remove the particularly obnoxious pauldrons, Roidsworth said, "Sergeant, give her a hand." He hadn't even looked back, but he could somehow tell that Tisika was having trouble.

"Aye-aye." Raven immediately stowed her weapon and got to her feet, quickly and efficiently stripping the armor plates and skintight body glove off of the Jedi knight, her gloved hands moving across her body with deft precision. Tisika did her best to fight the blush that crept up her cheeks, since she hadn't had anything to wear beneath the undersized Sith armor.

Suddenly, Roidsworth cursed. " _Fierfek,_ someone's coming. Hurry it up!" He whispered harshly, sighting down his rifle and flicking off the safety.

Tisika swallowed drily, struggling into her leggings and robes as she cast her senses outward, searching for whoever it was that had caught the Lieutenant's attention. When she found them, she said, "There are six hostile individuals, though not specifically towards us... I think they're looking to fight each other." It was difficult to tell, there were so very many sentients around, packed into such a small area.

And just as she finished speaking, the roar of blaster fire filled the cramped thoroughfare.

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

 _ ***Lieutenant Alexander Roidsworth***_

"Aoniken, on me!" I ordered, getting to my feet and charging down the hallway, rifle at the ready.

Raven instantly drew her weapon and fell into step next to me, responding, "Sir!"

We got up to the edge of the hall where it split into a four-way intersection. I took the right and Raven took the left, each of us looking in the opposite direction. I caught sight of six individuals armed with melee weapons, only one of which had a blaster pistol on his hip; three Nikto fighting three others, those being a Rodian, an Aqualish and a human male. Judging from their hodgepodge fighting styles and lack of proper weaponry, they're all street thugs with no formal training whatsoever.

I glanced over to Raven, who shook her head. Nothing down the right-side hall, then. I held up one hand, flashing her the hand sign for _SIX._ She nodded and readied herself.

Getting into a contact with the local trash isn't exactly worth the ammo, not to mention it would be completely pointless, so I'd rather avoid it if possible. But if things don't go as planned... Better safe than sorry.

I flashed a few more handsigns to Raven.

 _READY FRAG. AWAIT COMMAND._

She nodded once more, pulling a golfball-sized object from her equipment belt. Those mini-frags are damned nice for room clearing, and easy enough to fabricate from cannabalized Czerka grenades if you can't get your hands on proper Merr-Sonn miniature grenades.

Anyway, after maybe twenty seconds, the brawl came to an end with the three Nikto as the victors; one of them was shouting something I didn't recognize. My visor picked up on what he'd said, translating it as " _Beks will burn, Vulkars strongest!"_

Vulkars and Beks? Hmph... Must be the local gangs. Regardless, I snapped my fingers and backed away as Raven chucked that grenade around the corner.

They never knew what hit them.

 _ ***...!***_

My helmet deadened the explosion, but the shockwave was enough to rattle my teeth in such close quarters as I moved back up to the corner, rifle at the ready as I looked over the corpses. Raven was doing the same, and the moment we confirmed that they were dead, she reached up and started fiddling with her ears, grumbling, "Agh, my _frelling_ ears are going to be ringing for _days_."

"Noted, I'll get you a hearing aid on our next shore leave."

Raven glanced towards me, cocking her head to the side and cupping a hand behind her ear. "WHAT?"

I couldn't help chuckling a bit. "Hah. Cover me, I'll see if those idiots had anything useful that survived."

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

"I still can't believe that _chakaar_ had a Blastech... Bastard must've pulled it off a dead Marine." Raven grumbled, sucking down a fruity cocktail she'd paid for with one of the dead Nikto's credit chits.

Raven and I had entered a local cantina and spent the last few minutes poking around, looking for any information we could learn about Bastila. None of the locals gave us so much as a second glance, so it would seem they either don't recognize Republic Commando armor, or they simply don't care.

Having ascertained this, I sent Carth the all-clear signal, and he entered the cantina with the Jedi on his coattails, a new-to-him jacket covering the top half of his uniform. He and Tisika walked over to the opposite side of the bar, taking a seat in an unoccupied booth, nonchalant as can be.

Everything seemed to be business as usual, until out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a Rodian harassing a young twi'lek urchin. Standing up from the table we'd commandeered, I quietly told Raven, "Sit tight, don't shoot anyone unless I give the word."

She nodded once, casually shifting in her seat to get a better view of the establishment as I meandered over to where the Rodian was threatening the foul-mouthed child. I casually clapped a hand to the bug-like alien's shoulder, remarking, "Hey, there you are! I've ben looking all over for you, kid." The urchin shot me a quizzical look as the Rodian spun around to face me.

Having seen my armor and the number of weapons on my person, the bug-like alien took a step back, no longer eager to get involved. _"Bar no place for small children, look out better for little girl."_

"Ah, you know how it is with kids. One moment they're right there, and the next, they're long gone. It's still safer in here than for her to be wandering around, the Beks and Vulkars are shooting at each other all the time, not to mention the Sith harassing everyone. Thanks for finding her, mate."

With that, the alien wandered off, and the child finally asked, "Who the hell are you? I didn't need your help!"

Ah, one of those types. Kid thinks she's all grown up. Should make this much easier, though. "I figured, but I wanted to ask for your help. You seem like you've got an ear to the ground, heard anything about the escape pods that crash landed a few days ago?"

The kid blinked owlishly. "Oh. You're a Republic soldier, then?"

I nodded. "Yup, a Commando, actually. One of my friends was in an escape pod that crashed in the undercity, and I've been trying to find her before the Sith do. Heard anything about that?"

"Yeah, but you're too late. The Vulkars got to all the escape pods that crashed into the lower city and the undercity. But I do know someone who can help you!" The kid's mood suddenly shifted, and I could tell I wasn't going to like how this played out. "My name's Mission Vao. Hey, Big Z!"

At the sound of her voice, a wookie on the other side of the cantina grumbled back, _"Not now, Mission! I just got my food."_

Mission pouted, hands on her hips as she said, "Aw, come on. You could stand to drop a few kilos, anyway."

...This is not going the way I'd planned.

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

Roidsworth and Raven followed the twi'lek urchin and the wookie out of the cantina, leaving Carth and Tisika behind. The Lieutenant had sent Carth a flash code message on his communicator, telling him to wait in the cantina for another fifteen minutes before leaving, promising to send an updated map with a new rendezvous location by then. He'd also told the Captain to consider both the Lieutenant and the Sergeant KIA if he didn't send an update within the hour.

Thankfully, less than ten minutes later, Roidsworth called Carth on the comm. _"Good news and bad news, Skipper."_

Carth sighed. "Good news first, please. Haven't heard any in days."

 _"We've stumbled onto the local resistance, and they've provided us with intel on priority one."_

Having heard this, the Captain downed what was left of his drink in one swallow before asking, "And the bad news?"

 _"Our Princess is in another castle."_

A moment later, Cath received an encrypted flash code message on his communicator, which took a minute for him to decrypt and read before responding. "So, she's being held. By a _swoop gang._ " The sheer disbelief in Carth's monotone voice was complimented quite nicely by his deadpan expression. "Un - _frelling_ -believable... Good work, Alexander. We'll meet up with you in a few."

As he disconnected, the Jedi knight sitting opposite from him muttered darkly, "Princess?"

Carth chuckled. "We can't know for certain that our communications are secure, so we can't use proper names over the comm. Heh, plus the LT has a sense of humor. Come on, let's catch up with them."

It took the two of them less than ten minutes to follow Roidsworth's directions to a disguised warehouse belonging to a local swoop gang known as the Hidden Beks; a gang that was apart of the Tarisian resistance during the Mandalorian Wars.

Upon being let in by the men guarding the door, Carth was met by the Sergeant, who saluted him. "This way, sir. You'll want to hear everything from the man in charge."

She led him through the warehouse to a door near the back, through which was a small office. Upon entering, Carth was met by an older man with dark skin and prosthetic eyes, a twi'lek woman in her mid-thirties with a harsh expression, along with the Lieutenant and that young twi'lek urchin from the cantina.

The older man inclined his head respectfully, introducing himself. "My name is Gadon Thek. I lead the Hidden Beks. As I'm sure your companion has told you, almost all of us are veterans of the Mandalorian occupation. We need your help."

Carth immediately knew he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear. "Carth Onasi. Frankly, from where I'm standing, it's the other way around. There aren't any reinforcements coming for us, so my people and I are stuck here for the time being. And one of my officers is currently being held by the Black Vulkars. Our mission is critical to the Republic war effort, so rescuing her is my top priority. After that, we'll need to find a way to escape the planet and return to Republic-controlled space."

Gadon stroked his chin, idly drumming his fingers on his desk as he pondered how to reply. The old man finally responded, "If the Republic isn't even bothering to try to rescue a man of your reputation... There isn't much I can do to help you, Captain. I don't have the men to assault the Beks head-on, their base is too well-fortified."

Lieutenant Roidsworth stepped forward, asking, "Do you know the location of their base?"

The old man nodded, his stony-faced Twi'lek bodyguard giving him a hard stare. "I do, but trying to march right in would be suicidal. Any frontal assault would be cut down by their automated defenses before even getting inside."

The heavily-armored redhead shrugged. "Using the front door isn't really my style, anyway." As he said this, in the corner of the room, Sergeant Raven Aoniken could be seen rolling her eyes.

Carth quirked a brow, wondering what Alex was implying. "What're you suggesting, Lieutenant?"

Even with a full helmet hiding his face, Carth could tell that Roidsworth had a macabre grin on his handsome face as he said, "Not suggesting anything, sir. Infiltrating their base would be extremely dangerous, it would practically amount to a suicide mission. Kinda reminds me of the POW rescue operations I led during the Mandalorian wars." Just as he finished speaking, Tisika froze, a cold sweat pouring down the back of her neck. She could barely breathe, the sudden bloodlust in the air was so strong. The stench of blood and rot and death filled her lungs, it took everything she had to keep herself from gagging.

Not noticing the Jedi's reaction, the Captain smirked, responding, "I see. Do whatever you feel is necessary to get the Commander back safely, you have license to improvise."

Alex snapped to attention and saluted. "Thank you, sir. Sergeant!"

Raven snapped to attention. "Sir!"

"I'm going to go kill some fuckers. You want in?"

She, too, had that disturbing grin on her face. "OORAH! Ready and willing!" With that, the two of them scurried out of the room, grinning like children on Christmas morning.

Gadon Thek quirked a brow, asking, "Commandos?"

Carth nodded once. "Yeah, veterans of the Mandalorian Wars. You won't have to worry about the Vulkars for much longer."

Tisika shuddered, no longer paralyzed by the bloodlust she'd felt rolling off of the two soldiers. "...I almost feel sorry for them."

 _ **~~Badadumdunbum~~**_

 _ **Reference include, but are not limited to: Candle in the Dark by Creen, Starship Troopers(The Book), Generation Kill,**_


End file.
